


The Beast Inside

by patriciatepes



Series: The Queen of St. Canard [6]
Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Complicated Relationships, Conversations, Eavesdropping, Exhaustion, F/M, Heavy Petting, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Late Night Conversations, Magic necklace, Relationship Advice, Spying, enchanted objects
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-18 07:27:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21740620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patriciatepes/pseuds/patriciatepes
Summary: Now that Gosalyn has a bit more freedom to move around Negaduck's base, she knows that this is the opportunity she needs to finally topple his hold on the city.  However, she she really learn to be more careful about the things she might hear... or see.
Relationships: Gosalyn Mallard/Negaduck, Negaduck/Female OC
Series: The Queen of St. Canard [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1235501
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	The Beast Inside

**Author's Note:**

> I can't recall now which fic I was reading when I first encountered the "I will go down with this ship" tag, but my immediate thought was, "Oh, this was meant for me and my Gos/Negs fics." I have others this would fit, in other fandoms, but this is definitely a first-thought ship.

She was Gosalyn, again. Not Quiverwing, just Gosalyn, the girl that had mysteriously appeared at Negaduck's figurative side. The thugs in the building—as she had experimented as soon as Negaduck had brought her the pair of jeans and long purple t-shirt she currently wore—ignored her from lobby to the topmost floor. They gave her side-eye, sure. After all, she could take a wild guess as to why they thought she was here. She had emerged one day from his bedroom, after all. None of them had seemed to put two and two together, that Quiverwing Quack had gone in, but Gosalyn Mallard had come out. Negaduck had explained to her that he had staged, one day while she was sleeping, bringing "her" in the room. Apparently, the "her" he had brought in had been Morgana in a glamour, who had teleported back to her workspace as soon as the door had shut.

So she was free, within limits. She couldn't attack him or his thugs, obviously. Self-defense was her only option. She couldn't leave the building. And she couldn't so much toss a paper note out of the window, let alone call somebody. So Gosalyn adapted. It was the first trademark of a good hero, how well they adapted in tight situations. Whenever Negaduck was out, busy, she was on the move. She slinked in corners, down hallways, and into whatever room that wasn't locked. (She didn't know the security rotation enough to risk picking locks. Plus, she figured that Morgana probably had them all magicked up away.)

She had her hair pulled back in a short ponytail, and mostly, she went unnoticed by the various thugs and sundry of the building. Occasionally, she would get a wolf whistle, or a glare, but no one stopped her. She had no idea what Negaduck had told everyone about her, about who she was to him, but she found that she didn't care. This measure of freedom was the most she had had in months, and it felt like taking her first breath of fresh air. It renewed her hope and gave her a sense of purpose.

It was one such purpose that led her downstairs late one night—she got to see the sky again, even though it was just through a pane of glass. Still, it was better than nothing. She remembered the trip Negaduck had taken her on within the first part of her stay here, and she managed to find her way down to the conference room-turned-witches' hut. She approached the door slowly, expecting some sort of trap. She pressed her ear to the relatively thin barrier. She heard nothing inside, and she tried the handle. To her eternal shock, it was unlocked. She took a hesitant step inside, finding the room both dark and empty.

In this room had to be the key to finally defeating Negaduck. After all, Morgana had done so much for him, including his stop in aging. If there was something powerful enough to bring the Mallard Menace down, it would be in this room.

The large table in the center of the room was still lined with single-eye burners, but they were all off and otherwise unoccupied. It was too dark, even with the little bit of moonlight leaking through the wide glass windows to read whatever might be written on the whiteboard on the left side of the room. Gosalyn turned, hands out like she was suddenly struck blind, and felt her way about the room. She could see some shadows that stood out, like they were darker or something, and she identified each once mentally as she figured out what they were. So far, they were either a chair or a bookcase. It was too dark to peruse the books either, which she mentally cursed at. Her answer was most likely within one of them, but she needed to be able to see which one she was looking for. The thing about that was during the day, it was all but impossible to get in here undetected. The room was filled almost every time she had been here before with witches, save for now, when it was covered in the inky blackness of the night.

She had worked her way to the back of the room, finding not only the far wall and the mounted bar she had been chained to, but also a slatted door. She tried the knob, finding it unlocked as well, as the main door of the conference room began to open. She let out a small, stifled gasp and jumped inside the door she had just found, pulling it closed. It was a crowded storage space that smelled of a variety of spices and musty, and it also held a four-wheeled tv tray, complete with old fashioned box television upon it. She wiggled her fingers in between the tight slats, working them apart wide enough for her to observe the room beyond without being noticeable just as the new arrival snapped their fingers, igniting several candles stashed here and there around the room. It was bright, just not in a florescent way. She still blinked against the sudden light, but when her eyes adjusted, she saw that not one, but two people had entered the room. The doors shut with a slam, and Gosalyn rolled her eyes. She had a guess who at least one of the new arrivals was.

"She is so _infuriating_!" Negaduck growled.

He moved into view, leaning over the long, heavy table that had replaced the old, lightweight (and probably poorly made for spell work) conference table. He placed his hands upon the surface as Gosalyn just barely caught the end of a long-suffering sigh. Beside him, Morgana Macawber stood, arms crossed.

"Let me see if I'm understanding this," the witch said. "You gave her the collar, with the proper limitations that keeps her in the building… and now you're… mad, annoyed?... that she has barely spent any time in the same space as you? Is that about the long and short of it, Negaduck?"

Negaduck let out a little growl, and Gosalyn saw his hat bob up and down in a nod. Morgana let out a disgusted snort. Negaduck's head turned in her direction.

"You're really something, you know that? What, you thought that if you gave the girl a hug and a pretty, magic necklace that she would instantly fall in love with you? That's not how it works. Not to mention that you've not made an effort to spend time with her, either."

Negaduck turned, and even from Gosalyn's place in the storage closet, she could see how tired he looked. He ran a hand down his face, causing his beak to bob momentarily. "Like I _knew_ that gang was gonna demand a bigger cut and then cause a shoot out that lasted days if I said no. Sheesh. Besides, I thought I was giving her 'space.' Isn't that _also_ what you suggested, Morgana?"

A chair scraped and soon all Gosalyn could make out of the witch was the top of her beehive hairdo. She looked like she was leaning a bit toward the table.

"Look, I know that this is… complicated, for someone who is used to just taking what he wants."

"I've never taken—"

"I _know_! Fine. Who's used to taking what he wants _or_ having it freely handed to him. Gosalyn is… a spirited girl, a free soul. She has been as long as I've known her, and Da— _he_ used to say the same of her. You can't expect her to just… forget all that you've done to her. By my cauldron, Negaduck, you've kept the poor thing locked up in your room for nearly half a year now!"

Gosalyn firmly pressed her beak together, letting her eyes go a little unfocused. She had known as much, now having access to not only a television but a very limited freedom of movement. But to see a date and then to hear it stated in such a way felt like two completely different things. She had to stifle her gasp, to keep herself hidden, but she clutched at her heart, which had easily skipped a few beats. Half a year was gone, and so much was different now. Her compatriots must think her long dead, with one of her dearest friends being actually dead. The news reports of the resistance against Negaduck was so… neutral these days. She didn't want her ego to show, but she did seriously wonder if it was falling apart without her and Arrow Kid, the founding members of the fight.

"I _can't_ let her go!" he snapped.

Morgana nodded. "I know that too. I'm just saying… this, _if_ , it is ever going to happen… it'll take time. I mean, have you even considered actually trying to date her?"

Negaduck rubbed at his eyes, growling as if the very organs within his head had offended him. Gosalyn peered through the slats at the Mallard Menace, wondering what it was, exactly, that had made him so tired. Was it this shoot out? Was it the resistance? Or was it her and her continued refusal? A large part of her was smug, no matter the source. If Negaduck was tired, it was likely he could get sloppy. If he got sloppy, it gave the city an advantage.

But there was that other part of her. The part of her that still remembered what it felt like to sob herself to sleep in his arms. That part of her was quiet, but it was there, nonetheless. And it felt sorry for the villain. Gosalyn hated this part of herself. Negaduck didn't deserve her pity or sympathy.

Or, that's what she kept saying.

"You're tired," Morgana said, as if she had been reading the hidden woman's thoughts.

Gosalyn shook her own musings from her head, putting her focus back on the conversation on the other side of the door. Negaduck snorted derisively.

"No? Really? What gave it away?" he drawled.

Morgana stood, crossing her arms. "This… relationship you're pursuing with Gosalyn doesn't exist. Not yet. It might never."

He growled low in his throat, and Morgana raised her hands plaintively. "You won't force her, and believe me, I respect that and agree with it. But… you are a, um… physical person. When was the last time you… _enjoyed_ some time with a woman?"

Gosalyn felt her stomach churn, and she leaned toward the door as Negaduck gave the witch the barest ghost of a smirk.

"You offering, Morgana? I thought that was 'off limits,' hmm?"

He chuckled, and Gosalyn could just barely see the scowl on the witch's face. She schooled the expression back into indifference before asking, "Would you accept?"

Gosalyn suddenly felt like she couldn't breathe. Her heart and stomach hurt, and she could feel that her limbs wanted to move, to shake, to do _something_. She didn't want Negaduck to sleep with her… but she didn't care. Not really. Did she? Her mind warred with itself as Negaduck scoffed.

"It would be tempting," he said, licking his beak as if eyeing a juicy steak. "But no. Not with you."

Morgana gave a small grin. "As I thought. Good thing, since that wasn't what I was offering. I was _offering_ to call Mitzy."

Gosalyn's brow furrowed. Who was Mitzy? This was the first she was hearing the name. Negaduck turned his back to the witch, and Gosalyn withdrew, just a touch, from the door, fearful that something she was doing might be noticeable in spite of the thin area between the slats or the dim-ish lighting. The Mallard Menace drummed his fingers on the table before he finally nodded. Morgana returned it with a singular nod of her own.

"I'll send her right down," she said, exiting the room.

In the supposed solitude of the conference room, Negaduck's shoulders slumped. He glared down at the top of the table, his fingers curling as if to claw at it. Moments later, the door of the room opened again, and Negaduck seemed to shake it all off, turning to face the newcomer.

The woman was young, maybe around Gosalyn's age. She was blonde, her hair was long and full, and she wore a blue dress that stopped at her knees. Her white feathers shined even in the dim light, and she bowed—actually _bowed_ —when she reached Negaduck.

"What can I do for you, Milord?" she asked, not daring to meet his eyes.

Negaduck licked his beak again, and now that hungry look was locked on the girl. "Come here," he said, his voice gruff.

Gosalyn had heard that tone in his voice before, and she knew what it meant. Silently, she mouthed the word "no" over and over, lifting her hands to cover her ears. She turned her head away from the door. She didn't want to see this. She didn't want to hear this. She didn't want _this_.

There was a soft thump, and Gosalyn told herself she wouldn't look, continuing her soft mouthing of "no." This was the last thing in the world she had expected to come upon in her lifetime, and it was certainly the last thing she wanted to see. Her hands shook as they pressed against her ears, the move muffling but not completely erasing the sound from the other side of the door.

She was moaning pleasurably, this Mitzy, while groaning "Milord" and "Lord Negaduck" interchangeably. Gosalyn felt sick. Negaduck was making some sounds of his own, but lower, just barely loud enough for Gosalyn to catch. Gosalyn felt like she was caught in the middle of nightmare. She wanted this to end. She couldn't risk revealing herself, she reasoned. How would Negaduck react to _that_? He had been, thus far by Negaduck standards, pretty kind to her. Something told the young hero that that wouldn't be the case if she revealed her presence.

Her heart thudded against her chest. Her stomach rolled and churned, and her hands were starting to ache with the effort of blocking out the sounds. She wanted him to stop.

That thought alone gave her pause. What did she care, if he slept with this woman or not? Her eyes slid toward the slats. She shook her head at herself. She wouldn't do it. She wouldn't look. She didn't want to see this. She didn't want to see him with _her_. She closed her eyes, willing herself not to lose control. What kind of hero was she if she couldn't even hide in a closet quietly? But her breathing threatened to speed up out of her control the louder Mitzy got. The more she called Negaduck's name, the more Gosalyn wanted to scream.

What was wrong with her?

Completely outside of her own control, she scooted back to the slats and opened her eyes. Her quiet gasp went unheard over Mitzy's moaning. Negaduck had seated the woman up on the table, her skirt hiked up to her thighs, and her sleeves slowly sliding down her shoulders. Negaduck, for his part, only had part of his jacket unbuttoned, his crimson hat fallen to the floor by his feet. Gosalyn's hands fell from her ears to curl into claws, digging into the cheap, thin carpet on the floor.

After a moment of Negaduck doing god-only-knew-what to the girl's neck, he stepped back, looking away from her. She blinked at him, obviously surprised.

"Milord?" she asked softly.

"Get out," he muttered.

Her eyes widened. "D-did I do something wrong?"

"No. Get out."

She looked on the verge of tears, but she nodded. She slipped off the table, her skirt dropping back to its proper length as she held the top part of the dress up. She scurried from the room, and Negaduck, his jacket still partially undone, went back to leaning on the table, glaring at it. Gosalyn, for her part, suddenly felt like she could breathe again. He hadn't gone through with it. And she was… Glad? She told herself it was because she wouldn't have to be subjected to such a display.

But, as it turned out, she was a horrible liar.

Her legs felt cramped, and she stood to stretch, failing to notice the low shelf. She bumped her head, noisily, tripping over something on the floor when she tried to duck out from underneath the shelf. She felt backwards, most of her hitting the back wall as she slid down onto her rump. Her legs were still handing over what appeared to be very tiny, round cauldron. Her eyes closed as she sighed.

She heard the closet door open. She took a breath before she opened her eyes. When she did, she saw that Negaduck was leaning in the threshold, jacket still undone, legs and arms both crossed. He had, however, retrieved his hat. She stared up at him, waiting for his rage. He seemed to be studying her. Finally, with a pointed gaze about the closet, he asked, "Looking for something to topple my empire with?"

She nodded. He huffed, shrugging. "Can't blame you. It's what I would have done."

For a long moment, neither said anything. Gosalyn remained on her bottom, legs still caught over the cauldron, staring up at the Mallard Menace as he stared right back. Finally, he reached out a hand. She paused for a just a second longer before taking it, letting him pull her to her feet and out of the storage closet.

"Let's go to sleep. It's been a long night," he said.

Deep inside, she screamed. She yelled at herself to tell him that she wasn't his to order around. If she didn't want to sleep, she didn't have to. She was an adult. But that voice was so deep inside her mind, it was tiny. She nodded, following him without protest as he led her from the conference room back to his bedroom.


End file.
